


I can't help you here

by SvperNova



Category: Tom Clancy's Rainbow Six (Video Games)
Genre: Depression, F/M, OCD, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Special ForcesAU, WIP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-09
Updated: 2020-01-09
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:53:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22186657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SvperNova/pseuds/SvperNova
Summary: An AU where Jackal and Buck had met in Quebec, helping each other clear out an old factory suspected of terrorist activity. It only took a year or so for the two to get close, and Jackal managed to convince his Officer, Avrán, To let Buck help with other missions. All went great until a grey and rainy day, when Jackal was asked to clear a vault in an old battlefield.
Kudos: 2





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> constantly updating <3 tell me what you think so far!

“I’m taking this mission alone.” the Jackal demanded. Avrán shook his head. Ryad slammed his hand down on the table in frustration. “At least give me someone good!!” The recruit next to officer Avrán was nothing less than hurt. But; it was understandable. Ryad had been ordered to clear out an old WW2 bunker for clues to where the Terrorist organization was. Who knows what was down there? It could be riddled with traps; or worse. The door opened and in walked Sébastien, wondering what the commotion was about. Ryad points to him before looking at Avrán for approval. A long pause occurred before Officer Avrán said, “Buck will go with Jackal to clear out the bunker.”

The old battlefield was still a deserted forest. Trees had fallen, rubble was everywhere, and only rays of light shined through the area. Ryad and Sébastien climbed through the debris, with their only guide being a sketch of the vault. “There.” Sébastien muttered, pointing at the control panel for the vault. Vines hanged down the side, and all the text was smudged off. But the buttons were still in amazing condition. Ryad smacked his hand against the biggest button, right in the center of the board. And suddenly the ground shook. Loud, echoing noises of rustic metal surrounded the two as the vault door opened below. Sébastien immediately started looking around, checking if the noise had attracted any unwanted guests. Luckily, only a few birds appeared. When he turned back to the door beneath, Ryad was already climbing down the ladder. A long, narrow tube into the underground. Black getting darker the further they went. The bunker was in pieces. Bits of the floor were dangling down, revealing how many levels there were. Every step creaked like an old home’s stairs. And the lights were either dim or broken. Ryad shrugged it off, but Sébastien became quite paranoid. When they reached the end of the tunnel, it split into two smaller halls. One with stairs, and the other was more rooms. Sébastien grabbed Ryad’s arm, “Be careful.” He said. “And quiet” Ryad replied.

Sébastien took the stairs down another few flights, trying his best to keep his feet quiet. Which was quite difficult considering how combat boot like they were. The walls were covered in dirt, and the floors were obviously worn out. The place also had a strange odor of old, musty air. Every door in the hallway was swung open completely, with papers thrown on the ground in shreds, and drawers pulled out. There was another ladder, but it was more to the side of the hall. It was smaller, less noticeable. And a red aura shined below.

Ryad is a curious guy, he likes to look at everything. Walking ever so slowly as he tried to read what was left behind. Running his fingers up old coats and empty magazines. Until he heard the radio static turn on, causing him to jump. “Ryad, I think I found something.” Sébastien’s voice said through the white noise. He started jogging over to the other side of the vault, jumping over the stairs and sliding down the small ladder where Sébastien’s backpack rested. The silhouette of Buck was surrounded by the red light behind him. Ryad walked closer to see what it was. A door. Specifically, a titanium vault door. There wasn’t any handle, so he slowly pushed it open. It was a small DIYed room. With coordinates all over the walls, and smears of blood on top. Some was old and dried, others looked quite new. Sébastien went to turn the overhead light on. Click. The light flickered before alarms started to scream, and the vault started to move again. More and more parts were crashing down, and Ryad snapped around in panic. The two rushed for the exit, almost flinging themselves up the stairs and ladders.

Every step the two ran was heavy, like they were struggling to stay on the ground. The floor broke from even the slightest weight on it, and the alarm still screamed at an ear-piercing volume. Ryad managed to scramble up only arm’s reach from the land above. He looked down after hearing a struggling grunt beneath him to see Sébastien stuck under large pieces of debris. “Buck! Can you get up?” Ryad yelled. His voice was shaky, and body uncomfortably tensed up. No response. “Sébastien!” The vault replied instead, with more groans from rustic metal and an odd smell of gasoline. He didn’t have much time. “I can’t help you here...”

The last thing Sébastien remembers was falling down the many flights, and seeing the sun slowly disappear again.   
  



	2. Same Old

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After the "abandonment" of his friend, Buck. Ryad pleads to be sent to another base. Unfortunetly it was the recruit one in West Mexico. Ryad knew he wouldn't be going out, so he spent his time there trying to be as helpful as possible. Even if all he could actually do was zone out and let his insecurities eat him like maggots. He didn't know if Sebastien was still alive or not. But if he was, Ryad was sure that he would never accept him again. It's all his fault.... 
> 
> right?

He stood tall, with a slight hunchback. A cloud of gloom trailed behind him, and he gave off a worn appearance. Eye bags, slumped shoulders, you know? Ryad had been in the Mexican base for 3 years. He realized quickly that he wouldn’t be going anywhere soon. He was surrounded by newbies that were pushed by the Colonel to train. Ryad spent his time cleaning weapons and running through courses. He spoke very little, and always lived by the rule of “My actions will say more than my words.” It wasn’t like Ryad was harassed and teased into talking, the new trainees were quite nervous and scared around him. Ryad is a known man. He has his history, things he’s done both good and bad. But the thing everyone knows about him is his ability to track others. It was amazing.  
  
Ryad had camped in his little corner outside. Sitting on a small wooden stool with a water bucket and daggers next to him. He spent his afternoon cleaning and sharpening each one. Or at least, that’s what he thought. His mind often drifted off to the day he left Sébastien. Going through it over and over trying to think of what he could’ve done. How wrong he treated his friend. The regret, guilt, pain... “Hey.” A nervous voice got Ryad’s attention. He looked down to see he had been cleaning the same dagger for the past hour. Half of the water in the bucket had gone onto the grass from how many times he washed it. Ryad looked back up to the cadet standing in front of him. “Can I borrow one?” The recruit asked. Ryad nodded and reached for one of the four actual clean knives. Handing it over to the recruit.  
  
Dusk came quickly. From zoning out earlier and chatting with the staff it was no surprise. When he walked into the hall for dinner, he did his usual routine. Ground Beef, mixed veggies, and banana slices. Then, he would walk to the same old round table, where he listened to his cadets complain about training. And his mind would drift again.

_“Sébastien! Here!” Ryad threw a handful of rope down the small tunnel. Anxiously waiting for the fallen man to grab onto it. Once he saw the Canadian’s hands gripping onto the rope, Ryad pulled it up. Using all the strength his worried body had left to pull him before the vault closed below. “I got you!” He said between grunts and sighs. Deep breaths for air. “Ryad!” Sébastien screamed the rope slipped out of his hand.  
  
  
_ The tap on Ryad’s shoulder made him snap around and stand up, staring into the eyes of whoever wanted his attention. But his broadened shoulders and intense glare softened up once he saw it was the old mail lady. “Oh! Miss Delfina! Terribly sorry.” Ryad apologized. She looked up with a sweet smile before handing him a letter and walking away. It only took one glance to know that Ryad couldn’t open the letter in front of everyone. “I’m heading to the bunkers. Going to bed early tonight.” He explained before leaving the dining hall. Refusing to give the recruits a chance to ask why.  
  
The letter was torn open in an instant. It came straight from the headquarters in Spain. Black envelope and all. Inside was an invitation to SAF’s annual meeting.. Where everyone ranked Officer and up could meet in the capital for a few hours to relax. The one thing that did bug Ryad was the name the letter addressed him by. “Jackal.” He hasn’t used that name since he arrived at the base. Either way, Ryad walked down to the front office. Explaining that they should expect a visitor at 04:00 AM.

Ryad has insomnia, or at least that’s what he;’s been told. He only sleeps a few hours every night. Tossing and turning in bed before giving up and sitting on the outside training courses. Running through them over and over until either he passed out or his legs gave in. It was the only way he could feel helpful. Training himself over and over to a deluded idea of perfection. He became dehydrated and almost dead looking by sunrise. Yet, only his trainees noticed.  
  
By the time he headed back in to take a shower, a large buzzing sound could be heard outside. Along with a bit of yelling, silence, and then.. “Ryad Ramírez needed for front office.” Screeched on the overhead speakers. It was time.  
  
-  
  
When he arrived at Madrid, Ryad had a feeling something was going to happen. The city life was quite different from the Mexican base, though. Lots of flashing lights and noises made it quite overstimulating. Hard to focus on even his own thoughts. The helicopter landed ontop of a hotel building. And out came running Lieutenant-General Tigre. "Ryad! Aye! Come this way, we need you at the meeting in an hour." He ushered Ryad without giving time for him to reply. Pushing doors open, running down the steps. Ryad tripped on his feet the whole way to the hotel room.


End file.
